How to Be Mad
by x Rajah x
Summary: PreRENT fic. Little Marky Cohen doesn't know how to be mad. Who better to teach him than the Drama Queen herself? MarkMaureen friendship and hints of a bohokid crush. Added bonus: Plenty of Roger related humor and some MarkMaureen fluff! Read and review!


Title: How to Be Mad

Rating: K+... even the bohemians didn't cuss as babies.

Summary: Mark doesn't know how to be mad. Who better to teach him than Drama Queen Maureen? MarkMaureen friendship fic, bohokids. Maybe if you squint there are hints of MarkMaureen romance...

Notes: This is what I like to call an in-between fic. I'm low on time, so I decided to use my muse for an easy-to-write whatever fic in between bigger projects, namely a new humor ficlet and the sequel to TDRQFF.

This is a weird idea that popped into my head and I went with it, with some encouragement from Stephanie Pascal. I always thought the little songs from Land Before Time were cute, so I put it with my favorite thing: RENT, and let it go from there...

I might do more songs from Land Before Time/Care Bears and stuff in the future. This one is "The Mad Song" from LBT.

Also- I did have to change some words. Some dinosaur related words. By the way, in this, I imagine the ages to be ... Mark - 4, Maureen - 5 or 6.

* * *

"What's wrong, Marky?" Maureen Johnson asked as her glum-looking friend took a seat beside him on the front stoop. "Did Cindy steal your toy truck again?"

Mark shook his head sadly, blowing a small sigh past his lips. "No, it's worse. She and her best friend Marie ate all the cookies in the jar last night... and Cindy told Mommy that I did it."

Maureen looked appalled. "Did you tell her that you didn't?"

Tears started to fill Mark's eyes. "Yeah, but she'd didn't believe me." He poked an ant gently with his shoe and watched it scurry off down the concrete walkway.

"Why not?" Maureen persisted inquisitively.

"Because..." Mark said, looking thoroughly dejected. "She always believes Cindy. She thinks that Cindy would never tell a lie, not ever."

"But Cindy lies _everyday_." Maureen said, steadfast. "What did you do about her, Marky?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," Maureen said, at length, "Did you put a roach on her pillow?"

"WHAT?" Mark said, looking shocked. "Why would I do that?"

"Why wouldn't you?" Maureen asked, smiling.

"Because... that would be mean." Mark said helplessly. "And... that sounds like _sumthin'_ Roger would do, not me."

Maureen sighed dramatically and rolled her eyes. "Geez, Mark. You are never gonna get what you want if you don't learn to be mad."

"What do you mean?" Mark asked, hating that Maureen seemed disappointed in him.

"Think about it, Marky, when was the last time you got really angry?"

Mark looked at the cement, squinting. "Well... um..."

"Exactly." Maureen said pointedly. "You're never going to get what you want in life if you never get mad."

"Why?"

"Because when you're mad, people will listen to you." Maureen said, as if it were obvious. "When I scream and yell my head off, my dad lets me have whatever I want."

"Wow." His eyes were round behind the lenses of his too-large glasses.

"Yeah... just imagine, Marky. If you could have whatever you wanted." Maureen said, watching Mark daydream. She smiled, suddenly feeling extremely important. "I'll teach you."

"Um..." Mark spoke softly. "I don't know..."

"C'mon, do you want to get in trouble for the things Cindy does for the rest of your life? You can't live like this, Mark. Not when you could have everything you ever dreamed of and get Cindy sent to her room without supper! You gotta be mad!"

"But how?" The innocent boy asked, and Maureen let a sly grin split her round, dimpled cheeks. He stared in wonder up at her, remembering how smart she was.

A tiny smile appeared on his face as he watched her take a step back and clear her throat, her bouncy brown pigtails shifting slightly as a summer breeze tangled through them. "First thing to remember when you want to get mad... you have to make the ugliest face possible. Make yourself look like an evil dude from a movie or like... like Cindy's boyfriend."

Mark laughed soundlessly, eyes trained on his friend.

Maureen rubbed her stomach and let a grimace take over her excited face. "When your tummy feels all sticky and hot, like it's filled with bubbly goo..." She sang, and Mark sat up straighter, watching the young girl.  
"And those fuzzy, buzzy things inside your head," She pointed to the base of one of her pigtails, putting on a cute little pout. "... make you sad and blue..."

She suddenly reached down and put a warm hand on Mark's shoulder. He jumped at her touch but then smiled shakily. "Don't go around pretending that there's nothing wrong with you! When you feel that prickily ickily thing, do what the Drama Queens do...!"

Mark briefly thought of asking her what exactly a Drama Queen was, but not wanting to seem uncool around Maureen, he clamped his mouth shut on the question, before gulping and asking submissively, his voice oblivious and nervous, "What do you do?"

Maureen spoke importantly, "Well... we get ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-mad!"  
Mark was lost. "How do you do that?"

She stood up completely and calmly instructed him, demonstrating each step as she went. With a coaching voice, she told him, "First, make your face all squinty and scary, don't raise up your head. Hold your breath until you're blue, and make your eyes turn red. Squint your face up, wrinkle your nose, like you just smelled something bad... turn your smiley face upside-down - that's the way you look when you're mad!"

Mark tried aimlessly to repeat the steps, wondering just how to make eyes turn red. Then, he wrinkled his face like he had just smelled Mrs. Davis' spinach and onion casserole.

Maureen giggled at the sight of the small boy's pale face turning cherry red and pruny. "Now, put your hands on your hips, shoulders back...! Stomp your feet in the dirt! Kick some rocks, but not too hard!"

Mark gently cuffed some pebbles on the ground with the tip of his Batman sneakers and added, "'Cause that can really hurt!"

Maureen smiled at him encouragingly and he felt his heart burst with joy. "Pretend you're a monster!" She yelled, and began to stomp around, acting as if she could breathe fire. Mark laughed as he was reminded distinctly of how angry his Daddy had been when Mrs. Cohen had told him about the cookies.

With a tiny giggle, he suggested, "I could pretend I'm my dad."

Maureen continued, nodding vigorously and stamping her pink sandals on the ground. "Grumble and mumble and growl real loud. That's the way you sound when you're mad!"

"When there's mad inside you, or sad inside you, you gotta let what's inside out!" Mark and Maureen sang together, stomping in a circle with mad faces and breathing heavily. Mark had to hold in his laughter.

"Give a big ol' snort and stamp your feet. Stick out your tongue or shout!" Maureen instructed, then pointed to Mark.

"Say no!"

Mark took a breath and yelled, "No!"

Maureen clenched her teeth and added, "Say grr!"

Mark grred.

Maureen smiled, her cheeks flushed. "Say no!"

"No!!"

"Grr!!"

"Grr!!"

Maureen clapped her hands together and grinned, obviously pleased. "Now you're angry! And when you're really really really really really mad, and you've got to let off steam: take a deep breath, throw back your head, stand on your toes, and scream!"

And she demonstrated with the loudest scream she could muster, scrunching up her face and wailing. Mark shielded his ears and waited until her lungs could afford her no more breath.

Then he examined her a moment before saying, "Thanks, Mo... now I can be mad whenever I want."

"No problem, Marky." Maureen gasped, trying to catch her breath, cheek rosy from exertion and smile shining toward him.

For a moment, little Marky couldn't understand one thing about the lesson.

He spoke up, voice low and nervous. "Maureen...?"

"Yes, Marky?" Maureen sat beside him, smiling ear-to-ear.

"I don't understand something."

"What?"

Pink climbed into Mark's cheeks as he lowered his head and whispered. "...I don't think your face ever looked... ugly."

Maureen was silent for a moment before she smiled again, and Mark nearly fell over in relief. "Yours wasn't either, Marky. I thought it was actually really cute."

She stood up, dusting her flower-covered dress off. "Now come on, let go see if Roger knows how to be mad."

Mark laughed before warning her, "Maureen... you must not know Roger like I do."

Maureen giggled. "You're right. You want to go get some ice cream instead? Then we can go pull a prank on Roger and see if he's REALLY good at getting mad. Sound fun?"

Mark couldn't think of anything better.

* * *

_YEARS LATER_

Mark sat on the sofa, staring blankly at the wall. His blue eyes swam with unshed tears as Roger spoke.

"Mark, do you want to talk about it?"

He swallowed a lump in his throat and whispered dazedly, "Rog... how can I go on without her? I love her."

Roger sighed softly and placed a hand on his shoulder. "It won't be easy."

"You're damn right it won't be easy. The girl I love just dumped me for a woman. And to me, she wasn't just any girl, man."

"I know, Mark. I know." Suddenly, Roger was hugging him.

Mark let his best friend's arms comfort him for a moment before saying brokenly, a laugh building behind the words, "She taught me how to be mad."

Roger drew back, eyes widening. "Fuck! That was HER??"

"Yeah...?" Mark said, confused, the laugh finally scraping out at Roger's unexpected reaction.

"Damn it!" Roger spat, standing up. "She's the reason for you learning how to make that ugly ass face you make when you yell? Remind me to get her back for that, because that face fucking scares the living shit out of me!"

"HEY! She said it was cute!" Mark protested, but laughed.

"Yeah, she also thought it was cute when a bum snuck into our loft in the middle of the night and peed on our hot plate." Roger pointed out.

Mark's face turned blank as he attempted to think of something to say to defend his ex. "Um… aw, damn. You got me there."

"I sure did. If you ask me, I think it's for the best that you aren't with her anymore. I was getting sick of those stunts she'd pull."

"Pranks?" Mark questioned, amused. "Don't be a killjoy. Those were hilarious. I especially liked when she put chicken fat in your bottle of hair gel."

"Haha… that was just… wonderful… I smelled like KFC all night and the band kept asking me why the fuck I got take out and didn't bring them any." Roger said, sarcasm dripping all over his words. "I almost forgot about that. I was more thinking of when she put dog shit on the handle of guitar case." He unconsciously scrubbed at his hands and grimaced.

Mark burst out laughing. "Or when she filled your beer with salt and then dared you to drink it down in one go?"

Roger stuck out his tongue childishly. "Yeah. God, I wanted to barf."

The filmmaker laughed, suddenly significantly cheered by this conversation. "And when she released a hundred crickets in your bedroom?"

"I didn't sleep for weeks." Roger rubbed his forehead angrily as he remembered.

"Or when she sprinkled Jello Mix in your sheets?"

A groan.

"Or that one time when you passed out drunk after that party, and she dressed you in a black satin bra filled with mashed potatoes?" By now, Mark was laughing his ass off.

"Oh yes. How could I forget the looks April gave me when she walked in..."

"Or when she shaved off one of your eyebrows?"

"Grrrrrr." Roger growled as he remembered. "Good riddance."

"Or when she covered the doorway in plastic wrap?"

"ALRIGHT MARK THAT'S ENOUGH!" Roger finally shouted, exasperated. "Point is, there will be a lot less terror in this place, that's for sure."

But Mark wasn't about to finish there. He smiled evilly. "How about when she taped a picture of a hairy ape over your driver's license photo and asked you to run and get beer? Bet the cashier who asked for your ID really liked that one."

"THAT WAS HER?! FUCK!! I NEARLY CASTRATED COLLINS FOR THAT!"

* * *

Hahahahaha… that was fun.

Reviews, please?


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